I saw a young boy, he was 9, and he lost his brother. There were only two in the family. The brother was 11, and he was 9—so, his big brother. And right in front of their house, there were all these big barrels. And according to the police, they weighed 5,000 pounds each. And so they’re heavy—big ones—and you have three layers of those. And the kids, they would just climb on those, you know, 5,000 pounds. And they would jump on the barrels, and they would enjoy it. And these barrels have been there for years.

But it’s May, the snow has melted, the ground has moved, and two barrels opened. The 11-year-old slipped between (she gestures to show the barrels separating and then moving together) and of course he died. But the body was mutilated, and under the eyes of his 9-year-old brother. So as a result of that, the 9-year-old, he went mute completely, and he didn’t talk.

So when I saw him, it was May, June, July—close to six months, and he didn’t say a word. He doesn’t cry. Even to his parents he doesn’t talk. I wanted to do the eye movement integration. But, it was an interesting thing. He always looked at the same spot all the time. So he sat in therapy, and he looked down. And you talk to him; he doesn’t answer. And he always looks—he looks down.

So my colleague [who had been this boy’s therapist] said, “Danie, I’ve seen him for four months, two or three times a week. I’ve tried all the props I could find. I went back to the Dollar Store to find some more inspiration. And I don’t know what to do any more. Do you have any ideas? Do you want to see him?”

And he was in Sherbrooke, which is about two hours from home, but I happened to be working in that area three weeks in a row. So I thought, “OK, I can have a follow-up, so I’m going to see him.” So I saw him in my hotel room. (winking and smiling) I don’t do that with everybody! (laughter) I just want to clarify that right away. But Milton Erickson was doing stuff like that, and personally, I even resigned from the Psychologist’s Association in Quebec so I can do that. Because otherwise, you cannot do that. And I want to have the freedom to do that, so I resigned.

So I was in my bedroom with this 9-year-old. I tried a few things and it didn’t work. Then, Oh, I notice that I have my garbage. I had called for some chicken for dinner. I had some clients that night, I wanted to eat something quick, so I had some chicken. Put it in the box, in the bag, and shut it. So you get—you take what you have, you know. So I took the bag, and I put it where he was looking, so he had no choice but to see it. So I said, “You notice the bag. Even if it’s shut, it still smells. It reminds me of you very much. Even if you don’t talk, you smell. It smells like you’re not happy. I’m sure when you’re at school, everybody smells you. You smell very strong, I’m telling you. When you’re home, your parents, I’m sure, they smell you. (she sticks her tongue out in a friendly disgust) And I had a surgery for smelling—for not smelling,”—which is not true of course.

When I said that “I had a surgery for not smelling and I still smell you,” he had some kind of—(Danie points to one corner of her mouth, and turns it up just a little bit in the start of a smile, indicating the boy’s response.). Oh, it’s positive! Let’s stick with the bag, let’s stick with the garbage bag!

And I said, “I’m sure when you are on your own you smell it. Don’t tell me you don’t smell it. I mean, I had that surgery and I still smell you. Do you think by leaving this bag like this, and shut, over time, it will smell more—or less? Do you have any clues? Are you thinking about it, or do you have the answer? Do you think over time, the bag will smell more?”

And the guy, the kid, the 9-year-old, has no idea what is PTSD. I mean, he has not studied the DSM-IV. But he knows about garbage bags! And he got it, you know. How much repetition would it take for you to learn French? To put it in your head, it would take a lot of repetition. So if you want to introduce new information to someone, the idea is, it is long. But if you get something that is already in there, then you just awaken it— like in this case, garbage bags. You have tons of experience with garbage bags. And he knows with all his muscles, that if you leave something that smells in a garbage bag, over time it will get worse. And it will attract rats, and it will attract bugs; he knows it. And I’m just using it to make a link with that situation.

So I’m saying, “In this case, you know, sometimes we have something that smells inside of us. And over time, if we don’t clean that up, it just gets worse, you know.” And he knows I’m telling the truth. I’m saying, “No, you can’t open it with everybody.” I don’t want him to open it with everybody. “No, you can’t open it with everybody, no. When you open it up, it will smell like crazy. (She holds her nose.) You need to open it up with somebody who had a surgery for smelling. (laughter) You know anybody?”

And I find that adding humor is good. It’s kind of telling, you know, “This too, you will digest it, and it will make you stronger.” And I fully know it and trust it. So I allow myself to make jokes like that, even if we’re talking about very important issues.

And what I did, I sat down. We were both of us staring at that damn garbage bag. No witness, hopefully. And I started to touch the big box, the chicken box, OK? I started to touch the big box. And I said, “Yeah, I think that’s the one that smells.” And when I started to touch the box, it was so fantastic—an experience I will always remember. He started having nonverbal reactions. (She sways back and forth, sniffing tears.) And I know it’s touching, literally, his experience. Using his nonverbal, ready to create the rapport. “OK, that’s the one that’s smelly. That’s the one you are afraid of; I understand.”

[To the audience] And the way we touch the bag, or don’t touch the bag, or approach the bag, was creating this trust relationship. Eventually I started to pull, inches by inches, centimeters by centimeters, to pull the bag slowly in my direction, making sure his eyes would follow. And once I was feeling some security [that the boy was OK with it], to eventually bring it on my legs.

And I was holding the bag with tenderness. Have you ever done that—hold a bag of chicken bones with tenderness? You need some practice. (laughter) I was just, you know, holding the bag with as much tenderness as I could. And he was crying, the poor baby, like crazy. And eventually, when he had calmed down, I said, “You know, I don’t think we’ll clean up the bag today, but we can start opening it up a little bit.” And I just played with the knots. Silly me! I made two knots for that bag. Just slowly, you know, trying to open it up. And when I would—you know, like metaphorically, it was perfect. He didn’t have to talk. I didn’t say much. I just stayed in there, you know, an hour and fifteen minutes, playing with the bag. Trying to open it up, and he would cry, and I would stop, and caress the damn chicken box.

And eventually, like, we didn’t open the bag. We managed to open the first knot. And I said, “Well, you are very tired. Me too. And, so we need to stop here. It’s good. You’ve done some good work, because you had the courage to start working on that bag. And it’s difficult for you.

Now, I don’t want you to go with the bag. It smells. It’s been smelling for months. I have an idea. I’m coming back next week. I could keep the bag. That would give you a little break, a week break. I don’t charge your parents for keeping the bag. (laughter) It’s included in the consultation. And then it would give you a break. And you know, I would take good care of the bag. OK, yeah, we’ll do that.”

[to the group] So, you don’t throw the damn bag. You keep it (cradling the bag) and I let him out. And you have to keep the bag. And I kept the bag, in my car. (laughter) You cannot just order new chicken a week later. It had to be this bag, open the way it is, and it had to smell more. Don’t even think of putting it in the fridge!

Comment from someone in the group: “Good thing you had the surgery!” (laughter)

Good thing I had the surgery. And so the week after, when he came in my room again, and I had the bag here, and it was smelly. For the first time, he looked at me like saying, “I think you’re crazier than I am.” And I said, “You know, I think it smells very strongly. I think we ought to do something about this, this week.” And we did eye movement integration, and he had all these pictures and these sensations, and these thoughts, “I should have died.” And he was so peaceful after that.